How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Boomer
by Max Sinclair
Summary: A dark, cyber punk self-insertion involving three authors that begins in the Bubble Gum Crisis world. For a more humorous approach read Roaches version.
1. Always Remember to Say Niktu

AN: This is an insertion about 3 authors. I tend to be the dark one. Roachguy's account of the following events is much more light-hearted and humorous. Enjoy.

This doesn't involve Tokyo 2040. I enjoyed that series; however, I feel it doesn't fit with the rest of the canon. It's like a retelling. But Parasite Dolls and AD Police are fair game.

Disclaimer: I don't own some of the characters I'm going to use. (Is it possible to own myself?) I doubt anyone can finally make up their mind who will own Bubblegum Crisis. If you'd like a more thorough legal statement, and you own any characters used here, let me know. (Note: Currently AIC owns BBC, as far as I know.)

**How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Boomer**

**Prologue: Always Remember to Say Niktu**  
_by Maxwell Sinclair_

Darkness, that was my first thought. Tentatively, I licked my lips. My throat was so dry it burned. The air tasted metallic and stale like drinking creek water out of a steel cup. It was dry but the lack of air movement left me feeling a bit sticky and all too human.

I was lying down and the ground was hard and cold. Tentatively, I stretched my arms and sat up. That's a good sign. Standing up I stretched my muscles out. No aches or pains but my joints felt a little stiff, like they had never been used before. I wonder, how long have I been here?

I can breathe, but the staleness of the air and the burning in my throat indicates the oxygen may be limited. I better find a way out quick. Okay, where am I? How did I get here? Let me think. I remember kidnapping my friends Roach and Mike and flying us all to Tokyo. Taking a random vacation seemed like a great idea at the time. There was an earthquake…and then….

Oh, shit. I'm buried alive.

Okay, keep it together Max. Take a deep breath. Oops, no don't take any deep breaths, gotta conserve the air. I am still breathing, this is good. I must have not been buried long, hopefully. It was also possible that there was a way out and I had been down here for a while.

If I think about this logically, I don't feel any bumps on my head. I couldn't have been here very long, or rescue workers would have gotten to me already. Unless they gave up on finding me, I felt a shudder course up my spine. That's not a good thought. Well, I'm not going to get anywhere standing here wasting my air.

I stumbled around almost tripping over rocks on the ground till I finally found a wall; unfortunately, I found the wall with my face.

"Ouch!"

"… ouch, ouch, ouch, ou…" My voice echoed around me for a while before drifting away.

Nifty. "ECHO!"

"…echo, echo, echo, echooo…"

After a few minutes, I figured I had spent enough time playing around with echoes. Time to move on. I put my hand on the wall and started following it. Hopefully, it wouldn't lead to a deep chasm.

* * *

...Three hours later...

"…goro goro," my stomach grumbled irritably.

Grrr, isn't there at least anything to eat down here. Right now, I'd be happy with a bat. I wonder how I could cook it though. I don't relish the thought of scraping rocks together over my shirt. There better be a way out of here soon.

* * *

...Three more hours...

Black, black, and more black. Such amazing scenery down here. They should offer tours.

* * *

... Two days later...

I'm going to die in this stupid fucking cave. I'm still breathing, so there must be a way for air to get in, but I can't really tell from where. I tried spitting on my finger and it didn't do much good. I can't see anything. But my finger smells now.

Hooray.

* * *

... 1 more day...

Throat dry.

Stomach empty.

Cave suck.

I think I feel a breeze, but I doubt my sanity.

* * *

... 1 hour later...

LIGHT! I can see light. When you've been in darkness as long as I have even the smallest pinprick is brighter than the noonday sun. I felt like I had lain backwards into a warm bath. This immense hope and joy spread through my spine. Maybe, I wouldn't die alone in the dark.

I'm going to have to start digging.

* * *

...2 hours later...

After digging and digging, I broke through and pulled myself out onto a broken street. I looked down at my hands amazed. I had spent hours digging through the dirt and there was no damage to my fingers or even my fingernails.

Looking around I forgot about my hands and stretched my arms to the sky with a hoarse croak of joy.

The sky was the coarse wool-gray of a winter's day. The once majestic skyscrapers and freeways of Tokyo lay about me in ruins.

"SHIT!"

I forgot to say niktu.

* * *

... 2 days later...

While wandering the deserted giant game of dominos gone awry that was once Shibuya I had discovered a few things. Boiled water from the ground doesn't taste very good just as I had remembered. I had found a pack of half-starved dogs and killed them with piece of broken window. Maybe it's the lack of soy sauce, but they sure didn't taste like Chinese. I haven't grown tired the whole time. I'm sure I've been wandering for a few days. If I include the time spent underground, I should be past the point of exhaustion.

Something odd was going on. I was starting to feel a bit freaked out, and not just because the world had apparently been destroyed while I was sleeping. I didn't have my cell phone, wallet or keys. I can't imagine someone finding me underground stealing my wallet and then just leaving me there. For hours I've seen a tall building in the distance like a giant pyramid with no cap. Either something is still alive, or it was a really well made building.

The highways had begun to grow smoother. Maybe the damage didn't stretch across the whole world. As long as there weren't any zombies, I'd be happy.

After a few more hours passed, I noticed vehicles approaching from the distance. Eagerly, I broke into a jog. Soon, I noticed it was bikes and what looked like dune buggies, scenes of "Fist of the North Star" passed through my head. If anyone's head explodes I'm out of here.

As they grew closer my dread was realized. Seven or eight punks that appeared to be ripped out of a bad 80's movie began to circle me. A punk riding a wannabe Yamaha with a pink Mohawk and a purple star on his left cheek swung a chain toward my chest.

I'm a fighter. I've been trained and I'm not surprised at the knowledge that may come with adrenaline, but I'm in rather average physical shape…or so I thought.

My right arm swung up to a vertical allowing the chain to wrap around my forearm. I stepped back into a low horseman stance pulling the chain and my arm back, the punk flew though the air as my left hand came forward in a mid palm strike. I felt his sternum snap like a twig.

I stared at my hand dumbstruck, as the punk lay on the ground with blood pouring from his mouth. I'm guessing that probably pierced his lungs if he was lucky. He was quite possibly dead and my arm didn't even hurt from where the chain struck.

In one of the 'dune buggies', a larger punk shouted something and all of other vehicles turned to flee. I don't want that to happen. These are the first people I've come across and I'd like to know where I am, and if any semblance of society survived.

I kicked my right leg up and to the left while jumping off the ground with my left. Completing a full spin I threw my right arm forward in a strike. The chain slung through the air and struck the large punk that had shouted. I was reminded again that there was something amiss about my body as I watched his head shatter like a watermelon.

The rest of the punks rode off out of range. In horror, I allowed the chain to fall from my arm to the ground and stared at my hands. I just killed two people.

Damn.

Well, why waste a free motorcycle.

I rode towards the tower in the distance. As I rode, the word the punk had shouted occurred to me, "Boomer."

Double Shit.

* * *

In a dark room, a screen showed Max riding toward the distant Genom tower, another screen showed a curly, dark haired man waking up in a hospital room and another showed a dark bedroom with a small boy and a bleating alarm clock. A man sat in front of the screens with his fingers crossed and index fingers pointed up hiding his dark smile. His glasses aglow, reflecting the screens before him.

"Yes, my children. Wake up. Remind Genom what they could have had."

TBC: I, Boomer?


	2. I, Boomer

**Chapter 1: I, Boomer?**  
_by Maxwell Sinclair_

_"In the latter half of the twentieth century, rapid advancements in technology at last resulted in the development of artificial substitutes for human beings. A synthesis of mechatronics, artificial intelligence, and biotechnology, they freed people from all kinds of menial labor. People called these symbols of the era, "Boomers, assemblers of prosperity."_

It was a Friday evening and I was wandering the streets of what I had known as Tachikawa, but it looked now like it could be Shibuya. The glow of neon signs and virtual idols illuminated trendy stores and a coffee shop where the waitresses dressed and acted like maids, accompanied by the rhythm and thunder of pachinko parlors and arcades.

Around me walked young kids adorned in tattoos, piercings, and more hair colors than I could count interspersed by the occasional salarymen. They left an envelope of emptiness around me. This may be due to the fact that I was an almost two-meter tall man with shoulder length blonde hair, or it could simply be due to the fact that I haven't bathed in over a week (at least).

It seemed most of the special wards had been eliminated in the earthquake. So much for magic potions and too many books, I had simply woken up in the now ruins of old central Tokyo.

Currently, I found myself wearing a blank, moronic expression staring at a poster on a nearby pole. Yep, my suspicions were correct.

'Priss and the Replicants.  
CJ's.  
Doors open at 7.  
18+'

The show was tonight. There were other details on the poster, but I got the gist.

This means I must be in at least the latter half of the 2020's, if not into the 2030's. Several questions other than what year it was ran through my head: What happened to my friends? How could I have been left lying underground abandoned for so long? Did my family give up on me? What has happened in the world? Most importantly, where can I find a bath and a good stiff drink?

The building behind me erupted in gunfire as a tall (to me!), muscular man ran out.

Instead of hands, his forearms ended in what looked to me like M61-Vulcan cannons and he fired continuously as he backpedaled away from the building. A bag hung off his shoulder full to the brim with jewelry and bills.

"Now, whatever happened to give me all the money or I'll shoot? This dumb robot seems to think it is give me all the money and I'll shoot." I looked around hoping the Knight Sabers would show up.

As I heard more screams of pain from customer and pedestrian alike, I decided I'd have to act.

* * *

Leon McNichol was walking through the streets of lower Genom city after his shift had ended. It had been over a year since him and Daley had narrowly avoided being eye-witness to the destruction of the harbor city nuclear plant. Since then, boomer violence had steadily declined and no one had heard any mention of 'the boomer revolution'. Leon sighed and laced his hands behind his head. This meant life had been extremely boring. The Knight Sabers had all but vanished and his trigger finger itched.

Leon's bored musings were interrupted by a large crash and bullets being fired extremely rapidly. He rushed to the end of the block and pulled out his trusty Mateba. Others on the force had converted to newer guns, but when it came to sheer stopping power without the risk of jamming you couldn't beat it. It wouldn't pierce the armor of new military boomers, but he knew from experience a revolver wasn't going to effectively stop a military boomer no matter how powerful the gun was.

Looking around the corner, he saw a boomer backpedaling away from a jewelry store with a backpack and two arms that ended in machineguns. The rapid fire of its arms gunned down security guard and bystander alike.

What was a boomer like that doing here, and why rob a store? This was clearly a combat model, it looked almost two and a quarter meters tall. The only excuse for it being here was some sort of sick Genom test. Of course, he would never be able to prove that but combat boomers didn't just rob jewelry stores.

He watched a tall Caucasian man with shoulder-length, blonde hair and extremely tattered clothes approaching the boomer from behind. It seemed the boomer didn't notice him, or more likely didn't care. As the man was almost right behind the boomer, it swung its arm around to fire on him.

In surprise, Leon watched the blonde swing his left arm up suddenly like a windshield wiper and catch the gun-arm. The man's hips pivoted with his right arm and side swinging in and the hand struck the boomer's elbow bending it in reverse. Simultaneously, the blonde stepped forward with his right leg lowering his stance as if he was mounting a motorcycle. His right arm swung sideways grabbing the boomer's chin and his body swung around along with his left leg stepping into the boomer.

Leon cringed as the left arm followed the momentum folding the arm completely in the wrong direction against the boomer's body. He knew it was just a boomer that probably couldn't feel the pain, but it sure looked painful. The blonde's left leg had stepped behind the boomer's leg and his body fell forward, with knees turned in, forcing the boomer to the ground. Leon continued to stare as the blonde-haired man pounded the boomer's face into the ground forming a small crater.

Finally, the boomer's body ceased to twitch as dark red oil continued to spray on the road from what had once been a head.

The tall Caucasian stood staring down at his hands.

Leon didn't know who this blonde was, but from what he had just witnessed, he'd guess it was a boomer. Better bring him in for questioning. "Freeze."

The blonde boomer(?) turned to look at him with a puzzled expression. Then it turned and ran, easily dodging the bullets from Leon's trusty autorevolver.

It quickly vanished amongst the crowds of Tachikawa. Leon didn't look forward to writing this report.

* * *

I rounded a corner after I was sure I had lost the officer firing shots at me and pressed my back against the alley wall. That was definitely Leon McNichol. I was sure of it. Looked like he was old enough he should have met Priss by now, I'd have to investigate a bit. Maybe there is a way I could use this to my advantage.

First though…I grinned as I pulled out a wad of cash from my pocket. No one had noticed me 'borrow' it from the money the boomer had stolen. It was high time I found a bath house and a change of clothes.

CJ's turned out to be a dark, smoky dive bar with a small stage and two lopsided billiard tables. My kind of place.

I sat at the bar, working on my third glass. I'd been surprised to find they had Bushmills and single malt. I prefer Scottish, but it would do. The band had just begun to set up on stage but there weren't many patrons yet.

With nothing to do but sip at my glass I let my mind roam. I had visited the library earlier after finding a bath house and clothing store. It was 2035. I had been declared deceased years ago; therefore, all of my assets had been transferred to my nieces per the instructions in my will. This meant there was no chance I could just sit back and relax off the growth of my investments.

The good news was this means Largo was most likely out of the way. If I am a boomer, I'm not so keen on someone deciding they are going to declare themselves the new boomer god. I don't feel any compulsions to serve humans, which I'm counting as a blessing, but I don't relish the idea of some other boomer ruling me as a human either.

I eyed the drink a bit bleary eyed. Guess I'll switch to beer after this. Seems I can still get drunk. These people have an odd way of making robots; I required food, water, sleep, and other indelicate human functions. I presumed I was a robot. Being a boomer would explain how I was so strong. I could be something else entirely. Waking up in a world that you used to watch in cartoons has a knack for helping you to believe most anything.

My investigations today hadn't helped to solve many questions. I still didn't know what I was or what I was capable of. I didn't know where my friend were, but the records stated they were dead as well. They may be walking around like me or actually dead. Then again, I may actually be dead or in a coma…

All questions aside, I had one priority. I needed to establish an income. I had only managed to grab fifty-thousand nuyen from the boomer earlier. Branch accepts boomers and may be fun. I could dig the detective shtick, but I'd probably have to be part of the AD Police first. That doesn't seem all that fun.

I could try the vigilante gig. Bet I'd be good at it. The fight earlier had been easy. But I didn't feel like horning in on the Knight Sabers' territory, and not everyone has Sylia's connections to fund something like that. I liked her idea, though she's misguided by her distaste for Genom and boomer technology.

In a world of megacorporations, there is room for a little corporate terrorism. If I set it up right, it could pay well. Simple enough, I just need connections and places to hide. I was supposedly dead; therefore, I had no ID. Wonder how much a fake one of those runs…

It looked like Priss and her band were about ready to start. I better start looking for a place to stay tonight. It shouldn't be too difficult. Now that I was clean and wearing new clothes, all I needed was to buy a few drinks and find a woman to go home with.

* * *

I sat in the window of the girl's tenth floor apartment. I think she said her name was Fuuka. She was sleeping about five feet away on a futon. I wasn't real concerned about her waking up any time soon, I had made sure of that.

Leaving the girls apartment, I headed to the roof. It had been some time since I had watched the sunrise over a city. It used to be a favorite past time. I wonder if those buildings even exist anymore.

The spectacle did not disappoint. It seems even as a boomer (or whatever I am), the beauty still brings a tear to my eye.

Looking at the adjacent roof, I started to wonder. I've already seen I'm strong...hmm...

I ran forward and leapt off the roof, if this didn't work it would probably hurt pretty badly. I easily cleared the gap and almost overshot the neighboring roof, falling into a backward roll to stop the momentum and at the same time not fall off.

"Dude. That was some matrix kind of shit." I could get to like this. Oooh, so much for no one ever makes the first jump.

That girl, Fuuka, may have been a one night stand, but I felt bad about just leaving without a single word. Besides, I may need a place to sleep again sometime. I jumped back to the roof of her building.

I had shut the door behind me when I left earlier, but getting back into her apartment wasn't that difficult since she had an old style tumbler lock. If it had been electronic I would have had to just go about my merry way. I'm definitely going to have to look into that. I can't go around kicking down every door I need opened and I doubt corporate buildings are going to have tumbler locks.

It was a simple apartment consisting of a main room, a kitchen and a small bathroom. Back in America, I probably would have considered this a studio. But being Japan, it's probably just a normal apartment.

The girl looked peaceful sleeping on the futon. I'm gonna need to move quietly. I spent a while on the roof. Slipping into the kitchen I made a quick omelet, buttered some toast and made a fresh pot of coffee. Placing all of this on the low table, along with a quick note, I grabbed a beer from her fridge and slipped out the door.

Just in the nick of time, she was already stirring from the smell. The note was quite simple:

"Morning, sunshine. Had to prepare for work. Look forward to seeing you again sometime.

-Max"

Technically, it wasn't a lie...

I traveled to a coffee shop working on perfecting my new found mode of travel.

* * *

A few nights later, I slunk across a rooftop in the early evening keeping my eye on the woman I had just seen talking to Nene. I wore a newly purchased outfit for sneaking through shadows: kung fu shoes (Silence is a larger concern than protection for me. I'm half-tempted to just wear socks.); light, black carpenter pants; a ski mask; gloves; and eye black around the exposed part of my face. It was the best I could do with the little funds I had. If I wiped off the eye black and raised the balaclava, I looked somewhat normal.

I tried a scarf last night and I kept feeling like it was going to come loose. A ski mask seemed wiser.

If Megatokyo was anything like Tokyo, then my image was probably captured numerous times during the store-robbing boomer incident, but hopefully I can prevent that mistake from happening again.

The woman I followed was an officer with the AD Police. I recognize the uniform. I can't keep going around without any weapons. Guns can be noisy, are easily traced, and can be turned against you in close combat. My best bet was going to be a knife, easily hidden and backed by my strength much deadlier than any gun. I knew the AD Police carry a knife that could hurt a boomer. Stealing one seems like an easier method than trying to find someone that sold one.

I wasn't going to steal from Nene, that could be risky, but this girl was fair game. I was about to fuck up her day. I feel bad, but she'll get over it.

* * *

Naoko Ayase had light brown hair in a short bob cut and lightly freckled cheeks. She was short, even by Japanese standards, but she was still taller than her friend Nene. They sat down together in the AD Police crime lab. When it came to analyzing video and audio they were two of the best.

"What do we got Naoko?"

She smiled at the cute woman with strawberry red hair. "Case zero-three-five-dash-zero-six-zero-three-zero-zero-two, the one from last night." She giggled at her friend's scrunched face and keyed up the video.

Three boomers stood in the remains of a building, cars littered the street, several on fire. The entire video was tinted orange from the flames. The three boomers were massive, at least two-to-three times the size of a human. Military boomers always gave her the chills. They were dark blue, had a face like a human skull, and appeared to be covered in sinewy muscles; albeit made of metallic alloys.

They raised their heads and roared at the sky arms held out as the AD Police opened fire. The AD Police had formed a semi-circle of thirty officers, a common formation for them. The formation widened allowing two K12s and three K11 suits to step into the center.

At one all three boomers charged forward, the bullets seemed ineffective. The preliminary report from Branch identified the boomers as prototype 5A's.

The K suits fired making a slight impact but not enough to stop them. The lead boomer's arm struck out grabbing the K12s on the left in the head. Its right arm ripped off the chest piece revealing a uniformed AD Police officer underneath. He continued to fire his rifle into the chest of the boomer regardless of the danger he now faced. The boomer's right arm reared back and shot forward like a missile...

..."There." Naoko pressed pause. A dark blur hung in the air above the boomer and K12s.

"Slow it down senpai," Nene asked her.

The blur descended, landing in between the K12s and the opposing boomer. It looked like a tall human, or humanoid, dressed in black. This was the reason they were analyzing this video.

"Umm is that a scarf on its face, Nene-kun?"

"I think it is. Wong-san said it was dressed like a ninja, but that looks like it just wrapped its head with a scarf shinobi style," giggled Nene. "It has some kind of paint or make-up on its face, too."

As Nene zoomed in on the figure's eyes, Naoko noticed she couldn't see its eyes. They were a blurry white. "Hmm…the equipment can't make out it eyes and there's a slight blur to its whole frame."

"Yep," Nene agreed. "Look if we switch to thermal we can't see it at all. I think it's putting out some sort of electromagnetic interference. I don't think it is a suit, either."

"No way it would look like that, unless they are selling them at thrift stores now. So, we can assume it isn't human." The taller, brown-haired woman let the video move forward again and the figure spoke. "What is he saying?" She rewound the video and played it at normal speed. This made the thing's movements almost too fast to see, but allowed sounds to be heard normally. However, even in real time the voice sounded garbled and distorted, like high-pitched static.

"The report from the officers state it said, 'Excuse me, I'll just be a second.' with an American accent. Its electromagnetic interference must disrupt audio recording as well."

This didn't surprise Naoko much, she had seen enough footage of the Knight Sabers to know that their equipment wasn't perfect. Nene looked worried though, knowing it was only her interference that left the AD Police unable to make out the voices of her friends. This was something more advanced than their hard suits.

"Let's continue Nene-kun."

The thing grabbed the boomer's punching fist with its left hand and appeared to pull back continuing the boomer's momentum. The boomer's hand was noticeably being crushed by the thing's hand. It fell back backwards with the punch and jumped off the ground with its left leg, kicking straight up into the boomer's chin with its right foot. The force of the blow crushed the front of the boomer's face and the boomer fell backwards. The thing somersaulted backwards in the air and landed lithely on its feet before the officer in the damaged K12s had even had time to respond.

Meanwhile, the boomer on the left had knocked the far left K11 suit on its back and, in a mounted position, began to pound the suit in the chest. The boomer to the right had grabbed the other K12s in the face and, similar to the lead, was about to rip its chest off.

The dark figure cartwheeled to the right. With its left arm on the ground it wrapped its right leg around the outside of the boomer's right arm and its left leg pushed up toward the armpit and braced against the inside. The fingers on its left hand dug into the road and the figure's body swung back to the right bringing the boomer through the air with it. The boomer flew free from the thing's legs when it was horizontal to the ground and struck the other boomer knocking it off the K11.

The black clad stranger landed in a crouch and somersaulted forward to land on its back. Its right leg came down with it finishing the damage it had started on the lead boomer's head and the left leg came down with enough force to put a dent halfway into the boomer's chest.

"Whatever it is, it's strong. Maybe it weighs a lot."

Nene nodded silently.

The figure kipped up and returned to a stance, its lower-left leg perpendicular to its thigh which was perpendicular to its body. The right leg was behind the right shoulder with a straight knee. Its left arm was parallel to the body fingers pointed to the sky with the palm turned in; the right hand against its back.

It stood calmly as the two boomers moved to flank it. The AD Police moved into a circle around the boomers and stranger awaiting orders. The damaged K12s was evacuated allowing the pilot to join the ranks.

Naoko inched forward in her seat. It was kind of exciting to watch.

The boomers struck together, the left one punching with its right arm and the right boomer punching with its left arm. They thought to pulverize the smaller figure, and having witnessed their strength they could probably do so to a small tank.

When they had almost made contact the strange thing spun clockwise, its left arm pushing against the inside of the left's wrist and its right arm pushing against the outside of the right boomer's wrist. It rose into the air continuing the spin as a crater formed from the force of its jump. The left boomer's fist punched into the ground while the right's punch demolished its head.

The thing swung around the outside of the arm holding with its right hand. Its legs closed on the boomer's head like scissors and the thing swung around and down the boomers back. The weight of its body diving back-to-back pulled the boomer down backwards. As its hands struck the ground both legs kicked forward swinging the entire boomer over it.

It landed with its back to the airborne boomer and spun clockwise bringing the right fist up and downward into the boomer slamming it into the ground forming an impact crater the size of a city bus. The figure completed another full rotation, the left leg swinging around and landed standing on the boomer. With a twist of its entire body, its right foot crushed the boomers mid section.

Whether this thing was truly a threat or not, like the Knight Sabers the official AD Police answer was to take it down and let Branch investigate later.

They opened fire and Nene and I both stared as the figure jumped at least ten flights into the air against a nearby building, jumped off the building wall, struck another building another ten stories up, and used that wall to propel itself to the roof of another nearby building. From there the camera lost it.

"Well, it isn't human. And what bothers me the most is I think that was an easy fight for it. They didn't even hit it." The brown-haired girl's stomach turned. "That may have been a new Genom weapons test that we stumbled on. But why would they dress it like that? Do you think it is another vigilante like the Knight Sabers?"

"Ano..." Nene's rubbed her index fingers together.

"Hmm?"

She pointed at the clock. "Can we finish the report tomorrow?" It was five already.

Yawning, Naoko stretched her arms out. "Yeah, that's a good idea. Sleep on it and maybe we'll have something to report, other than Genom possibly having a new boomer that could take out our entire force."

Nene's apartment was on the way to Naoko's. Being friends as well as partners, they often walked home together. Today, they walked in silence and neither mentioned grabbing ice cream or stopping off to shop. Naoko assumed Nene was worried about this new boomer (Actually, she was thinking about the encounter the Knight Sabers had had with it after the video). She didn't blame her for being worried, she kind of was, but there was no sense in taking work home with you. "Cheer up. The AD Police always come out on top!"

They were at Nene's building entrance. With a quick hug and goodbye, Naoko headed onwards to her own apartment.

After about five minutes lost in thought, she was almost to her building.

Thud. There was a noise from the alley.

She loosened her holster and slowly entered the alley keeping her hand on her gun. "AD Police. Do you need assistance?"

The evening shadows cast the alley in darkness. She inched forward another step. An arm reached out and grabbed her throat, pulling her into the darkness and slamming her back against the alley wall with enough force to knock the wind out of her lungs. A hand was closed over her hand and gun preventing her from drawing. She reached for her knife with her other hand...

"I wouldn't." The voice was American and male. The hand on her throat began to close accompanied by an audible snapping sound. She began to feel weak from the lack of oxygen. As her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness she saw it was the thing from the video. If she could have breathed, she would have gasped.

Its eyes were green.

The world went dark...

TBC...

Next time:

AN: It seems I'm continuing it a bit serious of a direction. Roach and Mike will probably change that. Pardon my self-indulgence. I would definitely appreciate any criticism on my fight sequences. Not sure how well the scenes are unfolding. Also, I realize that my main work uses the Japanese name order and this one uses the American order. I apologize for any confusion.


	3. Luck Be a Lady Toknight

**Chapter 2: Luck Be a Lady To(k)night**  
_by Maxwell Sinclair_

The moon hung in the sky, a fat crescent illuminated by an orange glow from the streets below. A figure clad in a white hardsuit with blue highlights stood in a dramatic pose on a rooftop in front of the moon. Sylia looked down in horror as this new boomer flung a prototype military boomer through the air with its legs, and then formed a bus-sized crater with the force of its punch. To think they could put that much power in such a small frame.

Her visor heads-up display showed nothing. She couldn't get any readings off of it, not even heat. Obviously, the AD police had interrupted a new Genom weapon test, of course Genom would never admit that. The figure triangle jumped off two buildings in the area and fled. They need to stop this prototype now.

"Let's get it, ladies. Priss, go left. Linna, take the right. Nene, stay with me. We'll hit it hard and fast."

Sylia followed in the direction of the boomer, jumping from roof to roof using the suit's jets to assist.

She didn't have to go far. Less than a mile over, it stood on the roof of a tall hotel, its arms folded across his chest. She didn't hesitate.

Extending the suit's blades she charged forward and swung her blade in an arc towards the thing's neck...

...and her world spun around.

Too fast! Her arms were pinned against her back and a hand held her throat. Its fingers pressed through the metallic suit and she could feel the gloves against her skin. The aroma of leather filled her helmet.

Three rails from Priss struck her in the chest, as they exploded she heard Linna scream from behind her.

How can it be this fast?

"Can't we talk before we dance, Sylia?" spoke a sarcastic but warm voice in her ear.

The blood drained from her face. How did it know her name?

"Ladies. Consider your situation. I'm sure Linna is behind me preparing to use her ribbon cutters, but there is no guarantee they will work with the front of her helmet smashed. Or maybe you'll consider striking me with those knuckle bombs, but you've seen how fast I am. Before any attacks landed Miss Stingray here would be dead. I can also easily use the lovely Sylia to block any attacks from Priss.

"Ah but maybe, the lovely young Nene sneaking up on me plans to hack into my core and shut me down. If you all attack at once, one of you may succeed but at what cost? Let's play this my way. I've got a fairly good idea what questions you'll ask. Rather than drawing this out, I'll say a few things and then leave you in peace. If you'd still like to hold a dance party afterwards, I'll be happy to leave your hardsuits in a pretty heap for you to carry home."

A cold chill spread from Sylia's stomach up her throat. This thing might be able to carry out its threat, at the least one of them wouldn't live through this. It looked like that would be her. She was willing to sacrifice herself for the cause, but this maybe a time where discretion would be the better part of valor.

"What you just observed was me trashing some Genom boomers. I do not work for Genom."

"Who do you..."

It cut her off, continuing to speak, "I'm not going to tell you who I am or who I work for, of course. I'm similar to you lovely ladies, but I'd prefer to stay out your way. I'll try and keep my operations out of your neck of the woods; however, if my suspicious are correct comic book laws apply."

..."Huh?" This time, it was Priss attempting to interrupt it.

"I like you chicks, but if you get in my way I'm going to have to smash your toys. Man's gotta pay the rent."

Priss rushed toward her, or rather Sylia had been thrown bodily into her. She turned and saw Linna beginning to pursue the fleeing thing.

"Linna. Stop! We're in no condition to fight it right now."

The green suit turned to look at her. The front of Linna's helmet had been demolished and her face was clearly visible. White flecks of metal were still coming off the chest of Sylia's hardsuit from the shots Priss had fired. They would have to recoup their losses, but she'd be damned if she'd let that man-thing threaten them and get away with it.

* * *

Three operations. If I perform three significant operations, I should hopefully get the attention of some company. I can't keep operating without financiers.

I wiped the amateur surgeon's blood off my new knife with his own antiseptic.

This corporate terrorism and espionage gig is a game I know how to play. The key was to minimize collateral damage. Today's target may be tomorrow's client.

I've picked my first target. While simple to accomplish (translation: affordable), it should send a clear message of my capabilities.

Genom was the leader in cybernisation. In this society, you could have a replacement eye surgery in five minutes. But there were growing concerns with the risks of boomer technology. The failed mass boomer revolution had only occurred about a year ago. The media spin had convinced most humans that it was simply a well orchestrated terrorist act. That's basically the truth.

I chuckled to myself. If Genom instituted Asimov's three laws, they probably wouldn't have nearly as many problems. I had checked though, something truly was off about this world. Most of the books, movies, and music I had grown up with simply didn't exist. Some of them had equivalents, but many famous examples were completely absent. This added weight to my theory that I was really lying in a coma somewhere, or maybe even dead.

I shook my head, I was losing my train of thought and I can't afford to be distracted right now. I need to finish my business and get out of here. I continued to gather up the supplies I was going to need.

The AD police was a clever public relations move on Genom's part. Thanks in part to them, I doubt Genom's business is in any real trouble; however, the growing complaints had opened the door to other alternatives.

Enter Mitsuhide Industries, the leader in biotechnology, with their cute slogan:

'Why replace when you can enhance?'

Forget cybernisation, you can modify your body using parts grown from your own altered stem cells. It's an interesting concept for sure but Mitsuhide had a few obstacles, the largest being a lot of the enhancements they'd like to offer weren't currently legal in Japan. However, this was soon to be up for vote in the Diet.

Which leads me to Fujikawa Iruzuka. Kind of a religious nut, but he keeps it in check well. He was the biggest opponent to biotechnology, with enough political sway to keep cosmetic and performance bio-enhancement illegal. He was going to speak to the Diet in four days.

Some would simply kill him. Take him out of the equation, but that would probably create a martyr and could prove even more disastrous than his speech.

I plan on destroying him.

* * *

Sylia Stingray's office above Silky Doll was a pleasant, well-lit room with plants congregating by the windows that covered an entire wall. The room was set up as a living room and gathering place for meetings with the Knight Sabers as well.

Several weeks had passed since the nightmarish encounter with the current object of her attention. She was pouring through notes and reports on her computer. Fargo didn't really have much to say, but he was able to confirm that it didn't work for Genom. Genom seemed just as curious and interested as she was.

After repairing the damage to their suits, Doc Raven had been spending all of his time making the modifications to her suit she had requested. If it worked, she would have the work done to the other suits; if it didn't work, she may not be in any condition to fight again. It was taking longer than she had hoped, but it was to be expected with Mackie still in Germany. If they couldn't resolve this soon, she was going to have to ask Mackie to fly home for a while; she could use his expertise.

She sipped her wine and stretched. Switching the computer off she decided she would find out if Linna wanted to grab a bite to eat. Nene was busy with the AD Police and she hadn't heard from Priss since they had been beaten. She wasn't worried though, Priss would turn up even more motivated to fight when she was ready.

* * *

"Branch! This is OUR case!" Leon's shouts carried throughout the AD police building.

The chief sat in his seat with a resigned expression. "It's out of my hands. We don't know for certain if it's a boomer, this is for their detectives to figure out."

"That's bullshi…"

The chief stood up to glare in Leon's face slamming his fists down on the desk. "McNichol, you can back off and go on patrol or head home! I don't care! One more word out of you and I'll have you directing Traffic with Romanova."

As Leon grabs his jacket and heads to the door, Chief Todd calls out, "McNichol, make sure you grab Wong from District 4 before you start your patrol." Leon smiles and walks out the door.

"Hi Naoko-san," Nene sung with cheer as she skipped over to her partner. Her friend looked like she could use cheering up.

Nene didn't know the half of it. Naoko rubbed at her neck. She had woken up on the couch in her apartment this morning with a splitting headache. This meant that 'thing' had been in her apartment. Except for her neck, it didn't seem to have hurt her. She couldn't find anything missing in her apartment, except her work-issued knife and a beer. She hadn't submitted a report about the knife yet. Her day had already gone bad enough and Chief Todd seemed to be in an even fouler than normal mood.

This morning, she had gone to investigate a crime scene in District 4 with Daley. It was a chop shop. She had seen a few illegal cybernisation shops before, but this one seemed to specialize in the new biotechnology trend. The floor had a standing puddle of blood. The employees hadn't just been killed they had been butchered and the place trashed; some kind of sick message.

It was probably a turf war or maybe the yakuza. She was just glad she didn't have to go back. Leon, however, seemed pretty angry about it. This didn't help her headache any. "Hey Nene," she muttered to her cheerful friend.

"Come on Naoko. Let's ditch and go get some ice cream."

"I wish."

"Hey look, it's Niki and the others returning from Aqua City. Looks like they've brought an American back. I thought they were investigating reports of a combat boomer."

Naoko looked up. There was Drake's unit returning with some scruffy looking American. She shrugged, "I don't know. Two of them, that Buzz guy and a creepy looking boomer, relieved us at the District 4 scene this morning."

"Oh, is that what has Leon-kun so angry?"

"Yeah, but the Chief seems to expect him to stick his nose in as usual." There were other issues concerning her now. How was she going to explain the missing knife? She couldn't shake those eyes; those piercing eyes...

* * *

Two days later.

Genom was going to have to lose a toy.

Time to answer the age-old question. Am I a boomer?

I was looking down from atop a building in Tinsel City as a combat bomer shot up some apartments. Genom's tried and true testing method. Wreak havoc till the AD Police arrive and see how many you can kill before being killed.

The AD Police hadn't arrived yet. Regardless of what era one lived it seems police response time is directly proportionate to the residents' level of wealth. These people didn't have jack shit. Tinsel City borders the remains of Tokyo.

I could hear sirens approaching. There wasn't much time. If I'm to do this the way I plan, I'll need to take down the boomer with minimal damage.

Leaping through the air I landed with small crater in front of the crazed boomer. I knew I was too fast for a model like this to keep up with. I punched my hand into its chest and crushed the battery core. Really, it's a silly vulnerability in these models. Then again, its chest was equipped with plates thicker than most tank armour. They probably figured it wasn't a vulnerability.

I shouldered the slumping boomer and jumped off the nearby buildings, escaping to the rooftop levels and away from the carnage. Luckily, Tokyo had plenty of abandoned ruins to test my theory in peace.

Almost an hour later (better safe than sorry), I set down the boomer in the ruins of a Sony tower. The building had mostly crumbled away leaving an almost two story pile of rubble. After laying the Boomer on its back I lay down on its chest. Even if this works I have no way of knowing if my flesh will grow back. Only one way to find out.

"Here goes nothing."

The metal shell of the boomer began to bubble, cables formed, the outer shell began wrapping me like a mummy as the cables tore through my clothes and flesh. Soon, I was completely absorbed within the boomer.

Red eyes lit and the boomer sat up. There was no evidence of me or any damage I had caused.

Clenching and unclenching my fist I stood up. The world had a reddish hue, a tiny box zoomed around reading my surroundings. Words scrolled on the right side of my vision listing details of the world around me. Now I feel like a robot.

I performed a few katas to get used to moving this new form and then sprouted jets from my back like demonic wings of fire. It was time to pay Iruzuka-san a visit.

* * *

Fujikawa Iruzuka lived in a large manor near Bayside. From his gardens you could look down the cliff at the sea below. This would be his downside.

I had investigated the place earlier. By going through the ruins of Tokyo and across the sea I would be able to approach Fujikawa's house from the cliffs without causing a stir. There were boomers in the guise of security personnel that patrolled the property. This was going to be fun.

I flew up the cliffs and across the back lawn. Immediately I was spotted by two guards. I rushed forward and grabbed one's head, crushed it, and threw the body at the other, deflecting its fire. I'd have to remember to fight like a standard combat boomer.

I leapt up coming down on the other boomer, the flying body of its companion blocking it from noticing my rise. After crushing it into the ground I turned to the house. Three boomers had shed their human guise and began firing on me.

Five boomer guards, he was going all out.

I always wanted to try this. Ignoring the bullets of the weaker boomers, I willed my chest to open revealing three cannons. Fire.

When I stopped the barrage and waited for the smoke to clear, I had not only destroyed the boomers but half of the back wall of the house as well.

Fujikawa had had a shelter constructed beneath the house. Paranoid fellow, you'd think he expected some crazed boomer to attack his house.

I tore the floor boards apart till I came to the trapdoor. Then I jumped in crushing the stairs with my mass.

In front of me was a massive barricade taller than the largest boomer I had seen. If I had been a standard boomer this would be my defeat. I could hear sirens approaching. There wasn't much time left. I waited. I needed the AD Police here.

Sure enough, much faster than in Tinsel City, I could hear the screech of tires above.

I wasn't a standard boomer. By assimilating this boomer I had changed my appearance, but it now possessed my strength. I grabbed the door in front of me, my fingers digging into the metal like sand, and ripped the entire door off the wall.

Inside the room, Fujikawa Iruzuka cowered with his wife and two children. I could hear men rappelling down behind me.

I charged forward, reached for the family, and...

The world went blank as they blew off my head. Perfect timing. No one noticed that as my hand grazed Fujikawa, the syringe I had had injected him through my finger tip. He'd feel a little ill, but probably assume it was related to post-traumatic stress.

I waited for the AD police to leave with the family. I knew they wouldn't come for the boomer corpse till it was time to clean up the scene. That should give me at least a 30 minute window. That's more than enough time.

After I was sure they would have been gone, I rejected the boomer, the shell boiled again and I was pushed back to the surface. I stealthily snuck away. No one in the AD Police the wiser.

* * *

Three days later.

Chairman Quincy threw the newspaper down in a rage.

Two-thirds of the Diet had voted yes to the new bill. Consumer biotech upgrades was legal now in Japan.

Someone had arranged one of his boomers to attack Iruzuka and his family. That, in itself, could have been glossed over, but it turned out that Fool Fujikawa had been augmenting his brain with illegal biotech. They couldn't explain that one away.

This had Mitsuhide written all over it.

TBC...

AN: Max is an American. He only rarely uses honorifics, primarily when I would say mister or miss. He may end up picking up my habit of saying sir and ma'am all the time. We'll see.


	4. Road Warrior

**Chapter 3: Road Warrior**  
_by Maxwell Sinclair_

_AN: I'll try not to be too graphic, but this one has a couple dark moments. I'm sure there are too many f-bombs for a teen rating but I remember high school, this has nothing on that. As usual with my writing it's not for the li'l ones. If you feel I should change the rating to M, let me know. Thanks for understanding._

"Madigan-san."

The light-purple haired Genom executive turned to look at her assistant. She was dressed in a smart burgundy suit with a modest length skirt. "Yes."

Her assistant sat looking at a monitor, "The chairman would like to speak with you."

"I'll take it in my office." She walked into her office, sat down, and hit a key on her desk bringing the lined face of chairman Quincy on a small screen in front of her. Yes, chairman."

"Investigate Mitsuhide's newest operative. This obstacle needs to be cleared. If it's freelance it could prove useful."

"Yes, chairman," Madigan responded with a slight bow.

* * *

District Nine of Tinsel City was a shithole. It lay on the outskirts of the quake devastation and only half the buildings remained standing. Over the years most of the residents had moved on. Even crime didn't come here, there wasn't anything worth stealing.

A number of the buildings that remained standing had been converted to factories. The world buzzed with an electric hum. A few residents tenaciously decided not to move on. There were even a couple local stores open and a run-down bar. Normally, I'd only be in a dump like this for the bar, but Genom wanted to purchase this land. The factories could easily be bought, half of them probably belonged to Genom subsidiaries already, but the residents just weren't ready to move. Thanks to previous suspicious boomer-related violence around other Genom land-grabs, the government was reticent about supporting a forcible buyout.

I had a theory that a dramatic increase in crime might convince the residents that change is a good thing, or maybe at least motivate the government to act. I felt a little bad about this; after all, these people barely lived better than squatters. A number of the residents worked sixty hours or more at jobs that barely befit a boomer. Sometimes, life tells you it is time to move on. This time it seemed life was going to say that in the form of an overpowered robot with questionable morals and too much time on his hands: me.

The key was to not leave any signs that I'm not human and ensure it couldn't implicate Genom. I like to think of my activities as talent auditions. I had a three phase plan to Operation Cesspool; demonstration, establishment, and domination.

Over the following week while my flesh re-grew I began burglarizing and terrorizing the residents. I've found that I can switch my eyes through a greater range of light than the normal human visible spectrum. This would have been nice to know while wandering in the darkness of Tokyo. It could be a recent change, something kept from assimilating that combat model. Either way, it was fucking cool.

To break a window without noise is an art. It took three times to perfect it. The first, I spent two hours chipping away. I have no doubt that I can break into an apartment without leaving any sign of entry, but that would defeat the purpose. Silently, I slipped through the broken window into the apartment beyond. It was a simple one bedroom design, most of the apartments here were. The kitchen was attached and this apartment didn't even have its own bathroom facilities; that was shared on the floor.

Lying on a floor futon was sprawled a sleeping woman, possibly in her late thirties. Her cover had come off and I got a nice view of her breasts. I noted this cause I took a moment to gander. Apparently, some part of me still thinks like a human.

Sight was not my only sense that seems to be improving beyond the human range. I can clearly smell the aluminum indicating that this woman had used a deodorant that included antiperspirant. I can tell that the neighbor two doors over has a cat by the sound of it cleaning itself. All of this is coming in handy for sneaking around apartments at night.

My goal, of course, is to achieve a sense of violation without having to really violate anyone…too much. Something about rifling through belongings and stealing while someone sleeps less than ten feet away seems to really accomplish this. Probably, won't hurt when she realizes tomorrow that she was sleeping in the nude, too. I had no intentions of hurting her, but she won't know that.

I took a beer from the woman's fridge and drank it while I began strewing her clothes about the room. I actually only stole a few beers (which I left about the apartment to show that I had been there for a while), some green hair dye, some makeup, and a couple earrings that were uni-gender. I wasn't here to make a profit, just to make her think I stole a lot, and the products would come in handy with phase two. When I left, I broke the chain lock and damaged the front door. Now it looked like someone broke in the front door and the window. All while she was sleeping, I mused unable to keep back a large grin.

The fact that I was getting a kick out of this is probably going to add on to my dark side points.

As I left her apartment I heard a uniquely distinctive sound; human flesh hitting flesh. I know that sound anywhere. Standing alert for a few seconds, I quickly pinpointed the sounds of argument from an apartment three floors up. I snuck up and easily forced the front door of the apartment open without more than a slight sound of metal and wood snapping. They really did make these cheap places too easy to burglarize.

This was a larger apartment for this building, it had two rooms. The room I entered from the main door had counters and a fridge, a low table in the center, and a futon in the corner. A child was curled up on the futon sniffling. He, or she, hadn't noticed me. From the room next door I could easily hear the argument taking place. I wasn't concerned with the details. It was the typical trivial nonsense, bills or some such.

I peeked into the room and, sure enough, a man stood arguing with a woman. I took stock of his face and quietly left the apartment. Unfortunately, I had broken the front door and they would know someone had been here. Oh well.

The next day, I waited at the train station 'till the man I had observed the night before stepped off. I believe his name was Yoshi. I jumped from roof to roof following him until he made the mistake of entering an alley alone. A shortcut to his apartment, sure, but no witnesses. I couldn't prevent him noticing the large sound from the crater that formed as I landed in the alley behind him, but that didn't matter. He had only begun to react when my knife pierced his kidney from behind.

For good measure, I stabbed him in the heart and stole his wallet. Sweet, I'm growing dangerously low on funds. He really might not have been that bad a guy, but he hit his wife (or girlfriend) and in my book that was a good enough excuse. I couldn't only rob places. I had to make this neighborhood dangerous.

The exhilaration from the kill still filled me with warmth. I couldn't stop here. Jumping back to the roof of the buildings I noticed an old man walking alone. He may be a nice man, but seriously, how many people depend on an old man for survival. His will should suffice.

I didn't want another crater from landing, this was supposed to look like human activities. That was a real fuckup earlier. I jumped from building to building on my way down. As I was at almost street level, I struck out quickly with my knife through the old man's throat, careful to not damage the spine. My momentum had been sufficiently slowed as to not create much noise. I quickly carved out the man's spine. I heard you can sell these. Before I jumped off, I grabbed his wallet, too.

After three days, four more murders, and nineteen more apartments burglarized (sort of), the neighbors formed a neighborhood watch. Unfortunately, it didn't help them much. My enhanced senses made it quite easy to simply avoid them and keep on terrorizing. Two days later and I was ready for phase two.

I stood looking at my reflection in the waters that had swallowed most of Tokyo. Not bad. My flesh had completely re-grown and my hair had grown below my shoulders. I had clearly been created for human infiltration. But why set it to look like me. I wasn't anyone significant. Right? As a one-hundred-ninety-four centimeter blonde, I certainly wasn't blending in.

Moot point. I'm not one to contemplate such pointless directions. Reality was here and I had plans for my next phase of charity work.

I got to business using my stolen products to cut my hair and dye it. After a few hours I stood once again looking at my reflection in the water. With stolen leather, self made piercings, and a green Mohawk, I looked like a bad New York City extra in an eighties movie. "All right. Now we're talking." I just hope I don't heal fast enough to force the piercings out of my skin while talking to someone.

I ripped a street pole out of the ground and broke it into a manageable arm length. Mounting the bike I had picked up from the punks when I first arrived, I sped off. By the time I reached some type of civilization it would be dark. Perfect.

On highway Nine I spotted them, a group of about twenty punks on bikes. Maybe I'll find a new bike. Riding up on the rear bike, I grinned at the young kid, he couldn't be more than fifteen or sixteen. He began to reach for something...I didn't wait to find out. Casually backhanding his face with the metal pole I sped up toward the pack as the crash sounded from behind.

I moved the bike up between two more punks. The one to my left attempted to take my head off with an axe. I grabbed his arm and kicked his bike to the side from under him then let go, he'll probably live. The one to my right swung a chain toward my neck. Naturally, I could have simply grabbed it, but I'm not trying to let onto my boomer nature. Letting onto my fighting ability, however, is fair game. I let the chain wrap around the pole, jerked the punk from his seat, and swung him around onto the ground behind me.

Shifting the bike into high gear I sped off the exit toward District Nine dragging the unfortunate punk along the road behind me. That's right gentleman, follow the bloody trail. Let's have some real fun.

It didn't take long for more gang members to catch up to me. The bike I was riding wasn't that great, and the guy I was dragging was still kicking and screaming.

A kid, maybe twenty, sporting some pretty decent liberty spikes swung at me with a metal pole of his own. My right hand and impromptu weapon were a bit occupied. He probably intended to take advantage of that. Unfortunately for him, I still had the dagger I had stolen from Nene's partner and could easily balance a bike with my knees. I drew the knife and in a swift motion cut off his hand. Then I just kicked his bike. Nice spikes but he shouldn't have let himself get distracted by losing his hand, in this city new hands can be come by. He took a pretty nasty tumble.

Another came up to my right but I slowed the bike and swung my right arm up and forward. He slowed his bike to fall back alongside me as the chain he missed caught him in the side of his head. With the added extra weight of his friend and the motion of the bikes, he was thrown off his bike as well, and it looked like he may have lost consciousness. These guys are wimps.

Meanwhile, two more had sped past and strung a chain of their own out to catch my bike. What they didn't realize is we had come to our destination; District Nine. I released the chain and pole allowing the limp form at the end to crash into a nearby ramen cart. See how he likes doing business in a neighborhood where bodies fly into him.

I leaped from the seat of my bike, let the piece crash, and landed with my knees into the left chain wielder's shoulders. Locking on to his neck with my legs, I simply grabbed the handle bars swung up and over letting him fly and pulled myself back down into his bike's seat.

* * *

The moon glowed an angry red in the sky. Naoko was sure this was punishment for having lost her knife. The event still left her a little queasy, and Nene's driving wasn't helping.

Recently, there had been a string of robberies in District Nine. So here she and Nene were, patrolling the streets amidst slums and factories. Clearly, she was being punished. At the same time, the AD Police could look like they care. "I'm sorry Nene-kun," she apologized to her red-haired friend.

"It's okay Naoko. I'd worry if you had to do this alone."

"Thanks, this place scares me. I'm glad you volunteered."

"Oh we'll be fine, Leon-san is nearby. He is off-duty tonight and said he and Daley would be drinking at a nearby bar. It's just a few burglaries. Nothing to worry abo..."

One of them screamed, or maybe both. Naoko wasn't sure. A body crashed into their window making it impossible to see as Nene screeched the car to a halt.

The air was filled with the sound of engines and mufflers. Out the passenger window she saw two more bodies fly from bikes, one into a store-front window and another into a parked car.

The driver's side door slammed shut and she heard the trunk open. Naoko peeked out her window to see Nene placing down a road barricade.

Nene pulled out a megaphone and shouted, "You are all under arrest. Stop your bikes and lay down on the ground, hands behind your head."

Oh my God, Nene's insane. She grabbed her phone and frantically began dialing Leon.

"Yo, Leon here. Naoko? How's everythi...?"

"Leon, quick...aaah." A bike leaped the barricade while the biker hung sideways and kicked Nene in the face with both legs. Nene went down hard and Naoko dropped the phone. She dived out of the car, rolled and grabbed Nene. Dragging Nene behind the protection of the driver's door she reached for her phone. "Leon, we need you now."

She risked a peek to see the biker that had kicked Nene dismounting from his bike. Most of the other bikes were already down, a few bikers groaning, some grimly still. He kept walking towards them. He was big, maybe almost two meters, and he sported a large green Mohawk.

A remaining biker sped up on him, clearly meaning to run him down. At the last minute the big punk jumped to the side swiping sideways with a knife. Somehow he got the height right, the approaching biker's head was almost cut off and the bloody mess ran right into her door-cover, the body flew over the door and landed in front of her with a few final twitches.

'Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit...come on Naoko. Pull yourself together. You're an AD Police officer. You can do this.' She raised herself back up a little propping her gun out the window and squeezed off a shot.

"Shit! That hurts. I'll make you fucking pay for that!"

Oh God. Somehow he had walked right up to her. Her shot had fired point-blank into the side of his abdomen. But now he was in reach to grab her gun. It was over. There was something eerily familiar about his eyes, that penetrating green. She couldn't move, nor even scream. It was over.

That's when she noticed the sirens, several of them.

"Guess you're lucky, lady. But I'll remember this." The punk turned and ran. Hopping back on the bike he sped off, as three cars pulled around the corner. Two of them sped after him while the other, Leon's, pulled up to the barricade.

Leon and Daley ran up to her. "Oh no, Nene. We'll get you both to the hospital."

She kept seeing the green eyes.

* * *

It took a little while to lose the police on my tail, but I managed to snag one of the punks while fleeing. He was on the back of the bike behind me. I'm pretty sure he's alive. Speeding further into old Tokyo, I pulled into an abandoned parking structure.

I couldn't help but laugh. That had been the same girl I took the knife from. I didn't really mean what I had said to her, I was actually relieved the other police had shown up when they did. I might have had to act to keep up the image, or come up with a good reason to leave. But the terror on that woman's face was priceless. I'm going to have to pay for years of therapy for her. I continued laughing.

"Well, let's wake you up," I spoke merrily to the punk I had 'acquired' as I lay him on the ground. Using strips of his leather jacket I bound his hands and feet and began to slap him a bit to wake him up. Eventually, it worked.

"Where the fuck am I. You ain't planning no pervy shit are you?"

I punched him. To him it probably felt like a bag of bricks, but I was being careful to not hit too hard. A crushed skull doesn't talk much. "Lesson one: Speak only when spoken to and keep your answers terse."

"Fuck you, ma...aaaah!"

I cut off his right pinky. Wagging it in front of him, I continued. "Now, now. Remember lesson one. Lesson two: don't make me repeat myself." I cut off another finger for emphasis. I was going to have to do this pretty quick or I'd lose this guy from blood loss.

He simply nodded and whimpered. I think he was starting to get the picture.

"We're going to play a game, you and I. I learned it from an American comedy film. It's called 'to the pain'. I'm going to cut on you. Unless you tell me what I want to know. I'm not going to kill you though, and I'll leave your ears alone so you can hear what a horrible freak everyone thinks you are. Shall we begin? That's a question, you can answer that."

He nodded with another whimper.

He was very helpful, only making me carve away his nose and one eye. Now, I knew where their rivals were. Of course, in this day and age it was dangerous to leave him alive. But I made it quick. His skull made a nice decoration for my new bike after I washed it up a bit.

The next day, I mugged a few people in broad daylight in District Nine to help maintain my hold. I needed to act pretty quick if I was to keep them from figuring out their problem was only one person.

That afternoon, I walked into a seedy bar where the Enma Spawn hung out according to my friend from the previous night. Not a terrible name. Not that great, either, but they're just punk kids, I can't expect Shakespeare.

"Listen up, filth. My name is Max and I'm your new boss."

They all laughed and a stringy punk in the corner told me to get lost. Maybe he's their current leader. I threw my knife and they all scrambled to their feet as he collapsed with it sticking between his eyes. "I'd really prefer we did this the easy way. No? Okay."

It took no time to dispatch this group. After another round of 'to the pain' with the last one conscious, I found the location of another gang. Their name had sucked anyway. And I got another decoration for my bike, there is always a plus side.

Irritatingly, I had to dispatch three more gangs. But at least this means I'm doing a good service to counteract all this crime I'm ensuing. By the fourth gang I approached, word had gotten around. Join me or die. These guys called themselves the Slashers. They were basically high school hooligans with motorcycles, but they would work.

"Listen up. Tonight, we begin showing this town who we are. We're going to start with District Nine. There will be plenty of profit and fun in this, but at the beginning pickings will be slim. There's nothing worth stealing there. This is a message. Raze it to the ground." Those words were accompanied with cheers.

"Try not to kill too many people. We're trying to spread a message. We need survivors for that." Hopefully, the neighborhood would get the message fast and move out. I really didn't want any of them hurt. "Oh, and if I hear of any rape I'm going to cut off your fucking balls and feed them to you. Maybe I'll serve them with some rice and seaweed."

I sped off with the brats to spread our glory. This outta convince the government to approve Genom's buyout.

It only took a week. Quickly, the police wouldn't enter (there wasn't any money in it), and the residents were afraid to leave their homes. I owned District Nine. I got the word that the government had approved the land deal, so I called a gang meeting at our local bar. "Boys, our message has spread. Genom will be moving in with their boomers. We don't want to fight that, so tomorrow we move to a new area of town. Tonight, we celebrate!" The brats cheered and drank up.

"Max-sama," number two spoke up. I never bothered to learn any of their names. I know he was the previous boss. "Your eyes are red. That's cool, I didn't know you had cybered."

"What was tha--"

* * *

In a dark room lit by multiple screens a man dipped a spoon into a plate of flan. "Interesting, is that really the army you intend to build?"

"Kyahahaha!" his laughter echoed in the darkness. "This rabble is hardly fitting. How will you deal with a change in karma?" He pushed a button in front of him. As a maniacal grin spread across his face his glasses reflected a deep red.

--t." Huh. Wasn't I just talking to number two? My hands felt wet. I looked around. The bar room was painted in blood. The remains of the hooligans were barely recognizable as human.

"...I am a monster."

TBC:

AN: Thought I had forgotten 'bout the bike, huh? It is BGC after all.


	5. Asian Girls Don't Have Green Eyes

**Chapter 4: **

_by Maxwell Sinclair_

_AN: Sorry for the long absence. I've had major gremlin issues. First, I knocked a drink over on the laptop about the same time I lost my job. Then as soon as I got a replacement lappy, I had the external HDD that had my writings on it fail. As things were rolling again after that, I received a terrible virus from a friend. It has not been a good time for this author to have a pc. I'm sorry. This is a short update. I won't go any further into it. I'm back, now._

Suminodō, Daitō City, Ōsaka Prefecture

Tashida Labs was a squat eight-floor pyramid amidst consumer electronics and other assorted manufacturing plants. Hisoka Inoue had worked as the night security guard for six years. It was an easy job and he loved it. He was paid to sit in a seat in the guard house and turn people away. No one ever visited Tashida Labs and no deliveries ever arrived.

He didn't know much about the place. There were turrets at the building that could shoot anyone crossing the fence line and boomers wandered inside, that much he knew from his interview. What was inside he didn't know. It could be illegal, but as long as they paid him to sit in a chair watching movies he was content.

It had been a quiet night, only one lost truck so far. Lights flashed in his eyes signaling a coming truck, another guy making a wrong turn. You'd think they would notice the large one meter by three meter "private property, no turnaround" sign, but every night there were a few that didn't. He just hoped it wasn't one of those drivers that couldn't even speak Japanese.

Adjusting his belt, he stepped out the guard house door as the large, full-length semi drove up. Great, some of these guys could take almost an hour to turn around if they didn't know how to drive. He motioned for the driver to stop and approached the door.

"Sir, you're going to hav…" Before he could finish speaking a silenced pistol introduced his brains to the wall. The soft metronome of helicopter blades could be heard from over head.

* * *

Where am I? That always seems to be my first thought when I awake. The walls and ceiling were painted in a friendly yellow. The plaster wasn't peeling nor were the walls made of industrial steel. Definitely a nicer room than I'm used to sleeping in lately.

Sunlight filtered through slatted venetian blinds into my eyes; they automatically adjusted. I shuddered at the unnaturalness feeling a weight on my arm.

Shit! Pay more attention to your surroundings Max. Where are you?

The metallic tingle of artificial lilac mixed with human sweat assaulted my nose mixed with the pleasant aroma of fresh lilies from the corner of the room. A dulcet moan accompanied the silken flesh and hair shifting on my arm. A hand came to rest on my chest.

I turned my head to take her in. The woman lying against my side. Her body was spare, neat, the muscles like a dancer's. She breathed with the steady rhythm of a sleep only slightly disturbed by my movement. I followed past the elegant sweep of her breasts to her face. She had strong features with a slight roundness to the cheeks hinting at a country background framed by dark hair, cropped short like the 80's aerobic fad.

Oh God! Linna Yamazaki. My mind raced in a panic. What happened last night?

There was a chilled glass in my hand, ice cubes clinking together. The wind rushing through my hair as I sped through the streets, alcohol and pulsing lights overwhelming my vision in a constant static. Blocks began to coalesce into crude industrial blocks interspersed among bars and stores. I remember entering another bar.

Waking up in the stagnant stew of henchmen entrails tended to drive one to drink. Among flashing neon lights and the odor of humans, I met her on the dance floor. I suppose I must have been drawn in by her large eyes or maybe just the need to escape the morning in the arms of another.

Now, how to get out of here?

"Mmm, good morning."

There goes sneaking out. I chuckled and she smiled up at me. To cover my panic I quickly blurted, "How about a shower?"

* * *

Kate Madigan set the folder down with a sigh. She had already read it several times. More and more her job seemed to be focusing on this mysterious Mitsuhide operative, but she wasn't sure this was even related.

This was a nightmare.

Tahida Labs had a break-in. Most Genom employees would overlook this as a news blip. Something to talk about at the water cooler maybe. But she knew what was kept at Tashida Labs.

If she didn't find out who, and fast, she would be out of a job… or worse.

* * *

"You're glowing! What's his name?" Nene's bubbly voice interrupted her reverie.

As her red-haired friend sat down, Linna couldn't control the giant grin on her face. Sylia had called a meeting at Chez Ecouter. Over the shrubbery to her left she could see the nine meter holograms and store billboards of Kokubunji far below her. Soft cello music accompanied the aroma of candles and fish. She considered eating here a real treat.

"…Max." She remembered to answer her friend.

The loud noise of a chair scratching the floor tiles startled her as Priss sat down next to her. "Max, huh? Sounds like an asshole. Where's Sylia?"

"In the restroom," Nene answered Priss with her tongue out.

"Well, he may not be your blue eyed Leon but he seemed to be a really great guy." Linna teased Priss. "I met him at your concert." She grinned.

"Then he must not be any good. Why are we here in this stuffy place?" Priss grumped.

"I think it's nice. It makes me feel special." Nene said with a sparkle in her eye.

"When I was selling investments we always used to eat at places like this." Linna announced to her friends proudly. "But Priss has a point. We need to figure out what we're doing now that our suits are trashed."

"I apologize for making you wait." Sylia was stunning. Gleaming pearls outlined her neck and the gentle swoop of her breasts as her skirt accentuated her hips. She politely sat down. Linna was again reminded of a swan gracing her with her angelic presence.

"Well, get on with it." Priss stated to Nene and her polite dismissing murmurs.

"The hardsuits have already been repaired. Mackie is now updating them with improvements from our research into my father's notes during the past couple years. I'm sure the new suits will meet with your approval." She stated matter-of-factly with an arched eyebrow.

If only she could perfect that cool demeanor. Sylia never seemed bothered by anything. That boomer had held her at its mercy and yet she didn't seem bothered in the slightest.

"It better. Is there anything else?" Priss rudely bleated standing up.

"That is all. Be ready. I'll be contacting you each with our next job shortly." Sylia didn't seem even marginally disturbed. Priss might as well have asked her preferred tea.

Linna was always amazed at Sylia's equanimity.

"Good. I've got practice." Priss left abruptly.

"Would you like to go pick out some new outfits since we are here in Kokubunji Linna?" Nene smiled.

"That sounds like a great idea." Sylia announced, motioning for the bill.

The rest of her evening was clearly already planned. She giggled. There has got to be an outfit that would make Max seem as startled as he was this morning. It was a great day.

* * *

Stanley Diekhuis.

That was his name. I crouched on a rooftop watching the entrance to Healing Hands. A local massage parlor with 'happy endings'. I had followed him for a few days after I first caught him at the Jade Scorpion.

He was an American insurance adjuster, nothing special. But he had a wife and kids and seemed to think being in Japan meant it was okay to sleep with prostitutes. Unfortunately for him, I didn't think that was okay. That and I was broke.

Yesterday, I set off an alarm when I entered a store. I barely got away from the AD police. A new system was catching on that scanned your retinas as soon as you enter shopping plazas. The upfront explanation was to target advertising to the consumer. It also helped alert authorities to criminals and other illegals.

Conveniently, you could also use your eyes as your credit when shopping. Seems convenient. Translation: I need to borrow some eyeballs.

This led me to Stanley. I didn't like him.

* * *

"Roll over please." The words flowed over each other as Haruka spoke.

Stanley grinned to himself. This was approaching his favorite part about his business trips to Japan. He rolled over letting his towel 'accidentally' fall to the side.

Haruka sighed to herself slightly. One of 'those' customers. "Oh, master is grand." She exaggerated in broken English. "I massage mighty muscles." Was college really worth this?

Ten minutes later, Stanley was leaving the Healing Hands with a grin on his face. A pasty Caucasian man only slightly out of shape, he considered himself quite spectacular. These Japanese women just couldn't get enough of him. These trips were the perfect thing to escape the SALAMO, the Sacramento-Los Angeles Metropolis.

With a smile he turned toward his hotel as his breath caught in his throat. A hand on his neck prevented him from uttering a sound and the sky rushed towards him.

He was pulled at least thirty stories into the air and probably miles cross country, his pants drenched with urine.

God help me.

* * *

"Wake up Stanley."

A sharp, acrid tang filled the air. The world throbbed menacingly.

"Hello?" His throat scratched painfully. "Where am I?" His eyes opened. It looked to be a simple basement, maybe a parking garage. Large columns interrupted the darkness.

He repeated himself nervously, "Where am I?"

"You've been very bad Stanley." A male voice echoed around him. "You've cheated your wife, your children, and your self."

"I'm sorry." Stanley blurted. "I'll be faithful."

"This isn't about faith Stanley. This is about need!" The darkness screamed. "You needed those women didn't you Stanley?"

"Umm… Yes…" Please let that be the right answer.

"Boo!" A face appeared in front of him suddenly. He seemed to be a normal American male. Maybe a bit tall, with blonde hair and a goatee. "Hi."

"What the fuck?!?" Stanley exclaimed. "Were you just trying to scare me?" He rubbed irritably at his wrists bound with rope around the cement column behind his back.

"I suppose. Or just being an ass." The man smiled. "I'm still going to kill you. I was just having fun."

Stanley barely managed a cry to his God or Lord before cold, sterile metal pierced his throat and tears burned his eyes.

"Aww, don't cry Stanley. You're a bad man." The last thing he saw was the grinning blonde as the darkness overcame him…

* * *

I wasn't comfortable with the turn of events. I had killed a man. Not the first I had killed, but the first I had killed while staring into his crying eyes. He was a piece of shit for sure, but did he deserve death?

Regardless, I needed his eyes. This was going to hurt. With barely a murmur I carved out my eyes and slipped in the new ones.

It was time to get a much needed beer.

* * *

The Capital Club was warm with a dull cherry aroma of cigar smoke. Sylia smiled gently as Fargo sat across from her. He was dressed down in a plain suit and brown tie. He gruffly ordered a gin and smiled at her.

"Get it over with. What do you got?" She had little patience for his antics. Had he even shaved today?

"This'll be right up your alley. Trust me." His grin, as usual, seemed lecherous. "Destruction is fine. Recovery not necessary. Twenty-five up front. Ten upon completion."

She opened the folder and immediately agreed. She would pay him to destroy the Overmind Control System.

TBC

AN: The next chapter is incoming. It's longer and almost completely written. If this is here, then this chapter has not yet been edited. Thanks.


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